


Comic Book Day

by justbygrace



Series: As It Should Be [25]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3902458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbygrace/pseuds/justbygrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story for a prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comic Book Day

It was raining when he woke up and, though he usually didn't give two hoots about omens, he still rolled his eyes as he shoved his feet in his boots. If there was a sign to be had, the dismal sky occasionally split by bright lightning, was it. For a moment he considered not going out, instead pouring a finger or two of his best whiskey and forgetting everything that was today, but he wasn't sure if he had a choice. Maybe next year, maybe once he was sure Jack had this thing under control, he could retire in peace and celebrate this day by getting pissed and sleeping it off.

The square was full of all manners of folks dressed up in ridiculous apparel - this is why he always stuck with the leather jacket and jeans, he didn't need skintight and leather to do his job, never had, never would. He'd broken up six fights before he made it to the center and when he greeted Jack it was with gritted teeth and his patented glare. He scowled harder when Jack merely shrugged in a what-can-you-do sort of way and offered congratulations on his part in the weather.

It was his job to organize this chaotic mass of folks into doing what humanity expected of them, but that didn't mean he had to like it, or them. They didn't much like him either, but not a one of them would dare to cross him, especially not today. And when his voice rivaled the thunder, they shut up and listened. It was the work of moments to assign continent leaders and then to stand by while they broke into natural groups. He wasn't planning to go out at all, why bother, when she caught his eye. 

She was standing apart, obviously young and inexperienced, but already attracting attention from all sides. The leers of Adam - that walking parasite, was enough to cause him to throw what caution he had to the wind and insinuate himself in her group. The group leader wasn't thrilled, but she couldn't say anything and anyway, what did he care? He had long ago given up caring what any of them thought, not since he'd brought their world crashing down around their ears but somehow managed to stay in charge, and he had no intention of starting now. All he cared about was the blonde woman who managed to look scared and defiant all at once.

It took him until halfway across the Atlantic to learn that her name was Rose and all the way through their first mission to learn what her power was. After that he didn't leave her side and even Adam backed off, no one was going to mess with her now. She smiled at them all, but seemed ambivalent about the enormity of what had just happened and none of them had the guts to tell her. He bit his lip, the words that never came to him suddenly crowding to the forefront, and devoted his day to not being more than an arms length away from her. 

The last mission of the day was the trickiest, it required finesse and mastery and it required her powers and it required his and it wasn't until he cautioned her to step back and released the full fury of the storm that she understood what everyone had been hinting at, but no one had the courage to say. On the back across the Atlantic she stayed by his side, not saying a word, but merely flying parallel to him, her wings reflecting the sun and her name back to him. The wrap-up was swift and to the point, the day had an expiration that was rapidly approaching. 

He asked her to come with him, just to get a drink, before he could think twice and wasn't the slightest bit surprised when she turned him down, citing family, responsibilities, tasks that needed to be attended to and he nodded - accepting the rejection for what it was. He was halfway across the square, another year of solitude rising up before him, when he heard her footsteps, turned, and watched her run, her face a wreath of smiles and "I'd love to come" and he caught her hand as she made it to him, tugging her forward and into the future.

There would be time later to talk about the rules and regulations for their kind, to meet her mother and her friends and to grow to love them, to realize domesticity was something to love and cling to, to confess at her altar and hear her absolution, to live and love and dance and breathe and revel in the knowledge of who and what they were, and to maybe bring about the revival of their kind. And he would do all of it for her, with her, because of her. After all, what was he without her and what is the Oncoming Storm without the Lightning?


End file.
